


avoiding me and talking 'bout you

by liquidsky



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, General Dumbassery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 11:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: James should probably learn to use his words.





	avoiding me and talking 'bout you

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i enjoy it when people act dumb (it's because i find it relatable)
> 
> obvious disclaimer that i have no idea what goes on in the personal lives of the people mentioned here and generally i don't presume to know. they're cute and writing's fun. so yeah

“What,” Fraser says, managing to sound exasperated even if it's the first thing either of them has said in the past two hours. James is staring at him, or _was_ staring at him, since now he's apparently looking straight at the telly, not even blinking. 

“What?” James repeats, voice high with fake nonchalance. Fraser looks up, twisting around from where he's sprawled on their sofa, and James resolutely doesn't meet his eyes. 

“You're staring,” Fraser tells him. It's a fair observation – James _has_ been staring, but he'd honestly thought he was being subtle, or maybe that the staring would've come across more as friendly and less as desperate.

“I’m not,” he says. 

Fraser furrows his brow, “Uh, yeah, you are,” then, “And for the last two hours, too, so what the fuck,”

“Nothing's up,” James says. 

“That's not what I–” Fraser starts, and James interrupts him. 

“Nothing's up.” He reiterates, “Everything’s fine.”

Fraser doesn't look away from him for a few seconds, and James spends every single one of them feeling unnerved, almost like he wants to fidget, or speak, but he doesn't do either. 

Until he does, “So, theoretically,”

“Here we go,” Fraser says, and James pauses. 

“So,” he continues, “Let's say two people who are friends may or may not have, you know, shared a night together–”

“Shared a night together?” Fraser interrupts in his best mocking tone, all round, “What–”

“So two people who are friends may or may not have fucked,” James corrects himself, “Is that better?” 

“I reckon there's nothing good about this conversation to begin with,” Fraser says, “but sure,” 

“Fine,” James agrees. There really isn't a single good thing about any of this, but he's sort of— “Two friends,”

Fraser interrupts him, “I got that part,” then, “Who did you fuck?” 

“What?” James splutters, “Who said I fucked anyone?”

Fraser narrows his eyes, “Would we be having this conversation if you hadn't?”

James gives him a look, which Fraser returns, eyes narrowed and mouth pinched. 

James sighs, “Doesn't matter who it was,” he says, and he can tell Fraser opens his mouth to argue against that, hurries on, “I'm just wondering if it's like. Sex can be–buddies, right?” 

“Buddies?” Fraser asks, enunciating every letter like he thinks James is a dumbfuck. He probably does, “I wouldn't know,”

“Is this the part where you tell me you're a virgin?” James asks, then, laugh trapped in his voice, a sideways turn off topic. 

Fraser snorts, “Fuck off,” he tells James, “Haven't fucked any mates lately, is all.”

“Fair,” James agrees, though that doesn't help his issue at all. Maybe he should've asked George? “But, theoretically–”

“Sex can be buddies,” Fraser tells him, his emphasis on the word buddies not at all facetious. “I guess? But then also, like, what's really the difference between mates and a relationship if you wanna fuck them, you know?” 

James mulls it over for a second, biting the inside of his mouth while Fraser looks back at the television, seeming like he's no longer paying James any attention. 

“I don't know the answer to that,” James says, and Fraser hums under his breath. 

“Then I guess you have your answer,” Fraser tells him. James stares at the side of his face before picking up one of the pillows and hitting Fraser in the head with it. 

Fraser laughs, leaning away, and James huffs, “You're a cryptic fuck,”

“I'm being helpful,” Fraser argues. James hits him again, too fast for him to dodge, and Fraser yelps. Good. 

“Like fuck you are,” James says. 

“I am,” Fraser tells him, “Not my fault you wanna date Alex now,” 

James’ mouth falls open, works around nothing until he manages to cough out a “How–”

“You're taking the piss,” Fraser tells him, “You think you two bellends are subtle now?”

“We–” James starts, loses the thread, pauses. He shakes his head like he's indignant, and Fraser stares at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk, “There's nothing to be subtle _about._ ”

“Didn't you just say you were fucking, though?” 

“I said we have _fucked_ ,” James explains, because there's a distinction. An important one. “Once.”

“Semantics,” Fraser tells him, voice low in a way that clearly implies he's making fun of James’ _Languages student_ card. “You know I'm alright with you being gay, right?”

“I'm not–” James starts. 

Fraser waves him off, “You know what I mean.” 

The worst thing is that James does, indeed, know what he means. He pauses, “Fine, so let's say _maybe_ I wanna do it again,”

“See?” Fraser says, insufferable, “ _Dating._ ” 

“Fuck off,” James says, “There's a difference. Probably. There's probably a difference.”

Fraser nods, his features too neutral and solemn for there to be anything remotely serious about it, “Why don't you ask him, then?” 

James groans, “I hate you,”

“Yeah,” Fraser agrees, but he's patting James in the thigh, “Right back at you.”

—

James doesn't ask him. That's not a thing you can ask someone, he doesn't think, even if that someone is, pretty objectively, your best mate. There's just no way to get around the topic, and he's not exactly sure if Alex wants to do it again, so asking about it might seem desperate and thirsty and he's not about that life. 

Except for how he is, but–thirst is performative, or something, all's well if he can pretend he's above wanting to suck Alex's soul out through his cock. He's not, but no one _knows_ that. Well, Fraser knows it, and James’ been on the receiving end of teasing glances more and more lately, but so is the price of friendship. He thinks. Again: unsure. James is unsure about many things, including now the charming way in which Alex drapes himself over James’ lap when they're listening to music and drinking shit rum at 3 a.m. 

Fraser's staring at them. He looks amused, and flushed from the many drinks he's had so far, but it doesn't look as good on him as it does on Alex. Alex, whose head is resting on James’ thighs, who has his feet up, shaking lightly to the beat of _She's American._

He wants to trace the curve of Alex's nose with the tip of his finger and that's—that sure is a _thought_. He closes his eyes, leans his head against the back of the sofa, breathes in through his nose and tries to feel less drunk than he is. It doesn't work, he opens one eye and sneaks a look down at Alex. 

Alex's eyes are closed, and he's got a drowsy grin on his face. He looks sleepy and _soft_ , and James wants to fuck him again, maybe fall asleep next to him, too. The thought barely has time to settle in his brain before he's lifting his head, both eyes going wide. He turns around to look at Fraser, who's watching him back with raised eyebrows and a smile. 

“Shit,” James mouths. Fraser snorts, inelegant.

“So, Alex,” Fraser starts, and James’ shakes his head at him, mouths _what the fuck_ with a pinched expression on his face. 

Alex, eyes still closed, hums softly before mumbling, “What?” 

“I asked James for advice on something the other day and he didn't know how to help me,” Fraser tells him. Alex nods, his hair brushing against James’ thighs with the movement. “Maybe you could help?”

“Is this about editing?” Alex asks, “‘Cause I’m proper fucked, mate, it’s gonna have to wait ‘til the morning.”

“It’s not about editing,” Fraser assures him. James sighs, gives in to the impulse of running his hands through Alex’s hair, pads of his fingers scratching Alex’s scalp. Alex sighs, too, and Fraser rolls his eyes at them. “It’s a sex thing,”

“Nice try,” Alex says. He sounds even more relaxed now, almost like he’s falling asleep, “We all know you’re a virgin,” 

James laughs out loud, then, looking down at Alex and watching as Alex smiles at the sound of his laughter. Something settles in his stomach, heavy and fluttery, and he feels light-headed. 

“Wanker,” Fraser says, grabbing one of the pillows and aiming at Alex. 

James catches it before it can hit Alex in the face, but Alex is slightly jostled by the movement anyway. He blinks his eyes open and tips his face to look at Fraser. 

“Fine,” Alex says, closing his eyes again. “What is it?”

“Let’s say, theoretically,” he starts, and Alex groans, “One’s slept with a close friend of theirs and wants to do it again. How would one go about it?”

“Who did you fuck?” Alex inquiries. James tries not to tense up at the question, glances at Fraser with a panicked expression only to be met with amusement and Fraser’s shit-eating grin. He’s going to kill him – maybe Alex _should_ fall asleep if only so James could smother Fraser to death with a pillow and pretend none of this ever happened. He pinches the bridge of his nose with the hand that isn’t currently petting Alex’s head.

“I’m afraid that’s classified information,” Fraser tells him. Alex makes a noise in his throat, disbelieving. 

“Was it George?” he asks, and Fraser looks so immediately offended that James snorts. Alex doesn’t catch any of it. “Because we’re your only close friends and I think I’d know if you’d fucked either of us.” 

Alex doesn’t seem to register his own words at first, but James gets to feel as they dawn on him – he freezes, body going rigid for a second before deliberately relaxing. Fraser doesn’t miss it, either, looks delighted as he, just like James, notices the blush starting to creep up Alex’s cheeks.

He was flushed before, pink from the alcohol, and now he’s red. James feels himself blushing, too, light-headedness coming back as he realizes that Alex must’ve connected the dots even as drunk as he is. 

“You, uh–” Alex starts. There’s a beat of silence that none of them fill, and it stretches for a few seconds before Alex decides to keep talking, “You want to do it again?” 

“Yeah,” Fraser answers. He looks at James, unsure of what to say next. It’s a weird situation – James has been aware of its awkward setting since the very first syllable uttered by Fraser, but it seems that it’s only now striking Fraser that there’s really no non-mortifying path for this conversation to follow. Fraser looks down at his phone, then up at James. “I actually have to make a phone call now, so–”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Alex interjects. 

“It’s pretty important, though,” Fraser says, and Alex scrunches up his nose. He doesn’t open his eyes, and James feels almost like he wants to get up from the sofa and jump off a window. “You should–you should tell James? And he’ll pass it along to me tomorrow?”

“Fraser,” Alex says, 

“How does that sound?” Fraser asks, but he’s already gotten up from his seat and is inching towards the door. 

“ _Fraser,_ ” Alex repeats, and James winces. 

It’s stupid – James watches as Fraser leaves the room, then it’s only them, the sound of their breathing and _She Way Out_ echoing softly. Alex still has his head pillowed on James’ lap, and James can feel the up and down of his body as he exhales. 

“You should tell Fraser that if he wants to do it again, he should ask them,” Alex tells James. “It’s – it should be simple, just ask them and it’s. They want that too.”

“Do they?” James asks. He wants to laugh, almost, from the ridiculousness of the situation and the butterflies flying around in his stomach and the giddiness of watching Alex’s blush and his eyes and the curve of his mouth as he listens to James. 

“Yeah,” Alex tells him, “I reckon they do,” 

“So–” James starts, and Alex lifts his hand to cover James’ mouth. His eyes are still closed, and he hits James’ nose and cheeks before finding his lips. He shushes him, 

“Not _now_ ,” Alex says. James nods – Alex must feel it, because he removes his hand from James’ mouth and lets it fall back beside his body, “In the morning, when they’re not – you know.”

James does. He wants to remember, too, all the little details. 

“Okay,” he tells him, allowing his fingers to drag along the side of Alex’s face, “In the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the 1975's _settle down_ , which is an absolute banger and the best song to sing to in the shower. thank you for reading it, i appreciate comments and constructive criticism and all that. also i'm on tumblr as [unhawkeye](http://www.unhawkeye.tumblr.com) if anyone wants to hang out.


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